Let Me Guide You Home
by sam-glass'-girl
Summary: "I'll never let you be lost in the wilderness, Myrnin—and that's a promise." ClaireMyrnin, set after he's cured from the Bishop disease.


"Myrnin." Claire says his name softly, trying to lure him back to the world of the living, rather than that of the insane; she doesn't want him to stay away, doesn't want him to be in a place where he's scared and fearing for his life—and she can tell he is. "Myrnin, I'm here. I won't leave you. I'm here, I promise." She tries to sound convincing, tries to make herself sound as though she's certain of what's going on and that he can be ok.

She tries to make herself sound as though she's confident and strong, whereas the reality is that she's shaking like a leaf and one word away from being knocked to pieces, particularly after what he told her just before his manic stage—

—he told her he loves her, before promptly falling into the realms of darkness and insanity.

And now Claire doesn't know whether to believe him, or to lump in his confession with his pre-obviously insane times, because when has he ever told her anything like this before? True, he's always saving her, always running to her side when she needs him, and she's certain that it's because of him that she's alive right now…but does that convert to love? Surely Amelie would have, if they had spent the same time together…surely she would save Claire as much as Myrnin seems to.

(Then again, Claire considers, maybe not, because some of her survivals seem to stem from situations where Myrnin put himself in danger to ensure her survival, and Amelie wouldn't do that for a _human_.)

Almost as though he just realises she's spoken, Myrnin's eyes focus on Claire, taking a few moments to return to normal from their slightly clouded, confused appearance that Claire associates with madness: it's not a condition she can help him with; all she can do is tell him that she's there for him, and that he is _normal_, so he doesn't need this other world. He has everything he needs in this one, she urges.

It takes a few moments, yet Myrnin's hands loosen on the metal plate he's holding, his legs extending to take him from the uncomfortable, crouched position the insanity took him to and back to standing, looking slightly shaky as he did so.

(It's only in moments like these that Claire recognises—or at least, remembers—that Myrnin is possibly the most vulnerable of all the vampires in Morganville…and it's moments like these that make her certain that she feels something amorous for him.)

"Claire?" he says her name hesitantly, his brow furrowing as he tries to understand what's going on, where he is, _who_ she is, probably, since that's his usual issue. Sometimes, he thinks that she should be Ada, and it's those times that Claire begins to understand just how truly disorganised her boss' mind is, because he can't recall the time period he's in, and can't remember that he's already been cured of the Bishop disease.

"Yes, that's right," she says softly, like before, taking a step closer to him now that he seems at least semi-sane. "I'm Claire…your assistant. And…and your friend." She doesn't dare mention anything about him saying that he loves her—or her possible reciprocation of these feelings—and just sticks with the safe ground of 'friend'.

Claire tears her eyes away from Myrnin for a moment, her attention momentarily pulled towards the mess of the lab behind the curly haired alchemist; it's disorganised and uncoordinated, a lack of system behind the assortment of test tubes and chemicals which are most likely dangerous when close to one another.

It's just then that Claire realises that the laboratory is a perfect reflection of Myrnin's personality: he's a random assortment of information and things, aware of so many things she could never be aware of—yet there's an edge of antiquity about him, something that the lab has. He's dangerous when the wrong side of him gains control of his motor functions, devastating consequences when there is the wrong combination of parts of his personality—and yet deathly beautiful, the broken state of him making him beautiful in a way that nobody can understand, or very few people, at least. His beauty is _because_ he is so vulnerable, the combination of the angel and the devil within him making him someone equally loveable as dangerous.

This only makes Claire realise that no matter whether or not he loves her, despite the fact that he's a vampire who often wants nothing more than his fangs in her neck, and even despite the fact that she _loves_ Shane and Myrnin loves Ada, she loves Myrnin. It's not the same kind of flash burn love she feels—felt—for Shane, but rather a love that revolves around saving the other, and being the person who is always there when they need them.

(For her, it's when he saves her from death. For him, it's more when she saves him from himself.)

"I can't remember…" Myrnin murmurs, and even in this low volume Claire can hear the anguish that fills his voice. "I can't remember why I said what I said, or whether—whether I have a chance of being fixed for long enough to prove myself." His words begin to make no sense to her, them being merely thoughts spoken aloud, but she hopes that she's interpreted them enough to infer what he means.

"You're always going to be fixed—to me, at least," she tells him, taking another step forwards as she does so. "Myrnin…words can't describe the way I feel, or even if you meant what you said to me before your…episode, but they can let me tell you that you've no need to be fixed. You can control your insanity, and when you can't, there's always someone to help guide you home. I'll never let you be lost in the wilderness, Myrnin—and that's a promise." Now he's back, she's certain that the sincerity in her tone is definitely there, rather than just an illusion in her mind, and as she speaks, the anguish begins to slide from Myrnin's face.

He takes a step towards her, and stops merely half a metre away; they're close enough for her breath to touch him, for their hands to move to touch one another without any conscious movement to do so—

—close enough to kiss, for his lips to meet hers with a tenderness that neither of them was expecting. Their arms move as their lips do, a tender embrace to match such a sweet, soft kiss; Claire's arms wrap around Myrnin's neck, his around her waist, and in this moment, they forget that he's an insane vampire, and that she's a know-it-all human teenager.

Because in this moment, it's the case of two puzzle pieces fitting together in an unexpected way, a once believed to be unfixable piece joining with one that never ought to have existed; they're connected through science and dreams, beliefs and morals surprisingly enough, and in the end, that's all that matters.

It's that, which results in the pair of them saying, "I love you," in tandem, both of their voices barely more than a whisper in the silent laboratory.

(It's this moment which makes them realise that there's no chance they're ever going to be able to live without the other again—and whether this is a blessing or a curse is yet to be seen.)

* * *

This is my first time writing this pairing, so I'd appreciate it if you leave a review, please.

& if you favourite, please review at the same time.


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